


Untitled II

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Filk, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-15
Updated: 2001-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-21 00:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder ponders the effect he has on Krycek.





	Untitled II

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Untitled II by Broken Angel

Author: Broken Angel  
Title: Untitled II  
Pairings: M/K  
Rating: R  
Summary: Poem. Mulder ponders the effect he has on Krycek.  
Author Notes: Feedback, pleeease!!!   
Disclaimer: Not mine. *pout*

* * *

Untitled II  
by Broken Angel

You're looking at me again  
          that hard, green-eyed stare  
  that holds all of my  
                     unasked  
                     unanswerable questions  
        within its jade depths  
Your cold demeanor  
          barely wavers  
  as your lips impart secrets  
      I would have given my soul for.  
What did you give -  
   and why are you telling me?  
It seems to me  
        that I can see my death in your eyes  
   but is it, perhaps, merely a reflection  
                          of my own bitterness?  
Your hand is so steady, holding the cold black pistol  
   and the frost in your voice  
                        chills my soul.  
But still, I hear a faintly redeeming warmth  
 that whispers along the edges of your syllables  
      the electricity between us  
                      that you can not deny.  
For all your deadly beauty  
   your one-armed, serpentine grace,  
 the swiftness of your death-dealing blows  
                 for all of that  
I can find the cracks in your armor  
 the hidden weaknesses of your human vulnerability  
          can turn your cold to heat  
                   your ice to fire  
               and your anger to need - to lust.  
For, despite all the threats, the curses, the heavy-handed blows  
   I know I possess you, body and soul...  
 and to think it all started with a kiss.  
              -Broken Angel

  
Archived: 13:51 03/07/01 


End file.
